Digital Muse: Games that Got it Right

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Want to experience a decent story? Give these games a spin.

By Wayne Santos

When we look back at the start of gaming the technology available barely supported the game itself, let alone a need for narrative. Look at the Atari 2600 pack-in game Combat first released in 1977. No one cared whether there were good guys, bad guys, or an amnesiac orphan with a special destiny. The game was as simple as trying to shoot each other, and that was more than sufficient. But times, and tastes have changed, and today's gamer expects a bit more.

To understand how writing and narrative in games has evolved we must look back at some of the games that have managed to improve the game experience through good writing.

Planescape: Torment (Black Isle Studios, 1999, PC) Although RPGs are made by both the West and the East, there's a large gap between works created in Japan and the "CRPGs" of Europe and North America. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the way they choose to tell their stories. The JRPG is a genre that is steeped in tradition, invariably using a young orphan as its protagonist, an ancient evil, a love interest and themes of friendship, sacrifice and community. The CRPG can—and often does—go into much darker, perhaps even more cynical paths. Planescape:Torment is considered by many to be the high point of writing and storytelling in the "western tradition" of RPGs precisely because it is so antithetical to the Japanese tropes. The Nameless One is a man who wakes up in a mortuary, with the stock plot device of amnesia, but from there, he goes on a journey of rediscovery meeting people—and recovering memories—that prove that he was anything but a simple character. While the game has its basis both in CRPGs mechanically, and Wizards of the Coast's Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Planescape campaign world, it is a fully realized story in its own light. And it's been hailed by many as one of the masterpieces of the genre.

Why It Worked Planescape was made in the twilight years of two dimensional, isometric games. DVDs and other high-capacity media were still on the horizon and it wasn't practical to cram the game full of CG as had happened with the JRPG mammoth, Final Fantasy VII that debuted two years earlier. Instead, Black Isle fell back on one of the greatest tools in a writer's arsenal; dialog. A lot of what defines a character is what they say, and the characters of Planescape were painstakingly crafted to exude strong, definable personalities. Part of this also had to do with the choice of voice actors, with bigger names as John "Q" DeLancie, and even Sheena Easton contributing to the cast.

Beyond the revolutionary notion of getting strong, competent voice acting (remember, this was also the same era Capcom released Resident Evil), Black Isle took on some tough themes. There was nothing innocent or squeaky clean about the hero, The Nameless One. He wasn't a youth with a special destiny that was trying to save the world, he was a man with amnesia who would go on to find out that some things, and some deeds may have been worth forgetting. Another big idea the game tackled was the notion of perception defining existence, as opposed to the other way around. Over and over again, The Nameless one would run across incidents where it was the power of belief itself that created the reality, as opposed to reality informing the belief. Tack onto this the lengthy gameplay—truly "finishing" game would occupy upwards of 80 hours to experience everything—and you had a game that bombarded the player with ideas and characters equal to any novel.

The Longest Journey (Funcom, 1999, PC) Many believe that The Longest Journey is the final, most memorable signature of the traditional "point n' click" adventure that replaced the text adventure when graphical technology became more prevalent to the genre. Rather than comfortably insert itself into a straightforward science fiction, historical, or fantasy romp, TLJ cross-pollinated itself, creating a world in which both cyberpunk and sorcery had an uneasy coexistence, separated by a barrier whose foundations were crumbling, creating the central conflict of the story. April Ryan, the game's protagonist, was a plucky, intelligent, witty but very human college student, one day struggling with whether or not she could complete her art assignment for school, the next day finding herself in a battle for two worlds. Over the course of the adventure, gamers found themselves wandering through worlds reminiscent of both Ridley Scott's Bladerunner and Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, with awe-inspiring—and surprisingly comical—results. And it was this loving treatment of both the scientific and the magical that garnered the game its many accolades.

While Funcom had a great deal of enjoyment attacking the clichés of both genres, it was always done with great respect, and, more often than not, the game actually treated both its science fiction and fantasy settings with a great deal of seriousness and realism. Amongst the many characters April would encounter on her journey, she would befriend a genius hacker confined to a flying wheelchair, a talking bird with more snark than common sense, and a mysterious hobo, who would communicate the game's central tenet, "Mystery is important. To know everything, to know the whole truth, is dull. There is no magic in that. Magic is not knowing, magic is wondering about what and how and where." Over the course of the game, April—along with the player—would find mystery, and a story that was as emotional as it was unexpected, with twists, turns and truly character driven moments, that would cement the game as one of the all time greats in the genre.

Why It Worked While there are other great adventure games with stories worth cherishing, The Longest Journey took the bold step of trying to be both a game and a story of novel-like proportions. Of particular note is the careful realism with which the game treats all of its characters. April Ryan is a rare, early example of a female heroine who is celebrated not for her looks or ability to wield a gun, but for her likeability, her intelligence, her compassion and her ability to act even when she is afraid. The game even wandered into the unthinkable territory of gay relationships, presenting a character that was a realistic, not sexed up, complex lesbian, in a relationship, not ashamed of it, and not playing it up to comical effect. Even in recent games such as Enchanted Arms, homosexuality is treated as a comic element.

Its dialog was also shockingly realistic at times. People swore, worried about grades, relationships, money and success, in addition to saving the world. The game was full of grey areas, where characters were capable of being evil as well as good, and it wasn't simply because they were in the service of an evil/benevolent power, so much as they were making decisions that they thought would somehow make them happy, a condition that every person could relate to. In the end, The Longest Journey still sits atop a very small pyramid of games that didn't engage players because of its larger than life characters, but instead, presented people that gamers might actually know, from the potty-mouthed, egocentric Burns Flipper to the wise, almost grandmotherly Benrime Salmin, to the friendly, almost Hemingway-esque Brian Westhouse, a man who's charm seems to originate largely from the bottom of a bottle.

Psychonauts (Budcat Creations/Double Fine Productions, 2005, PC, Xbox PS2) At last, a game that's not on the PC that was made more recently! Psychonauts is the latest brainchild of Tim Schafer, creator of That Other greatest adventure game of all time, Grim Fandango. But this isn't an adventure. Instead, Psychonauts was that most rare of games in the 21st century, a platformer, with all the attendant jumping and item collection that this entails. Except that half the fun of this game comes not just from jumping, shooting and exploring new ground, it comes from getting to know the people—and their deep, DEEP personal problems—that populate the space. Raz is a circus freak who has run away to join the somewhat-less-freaky-people, or, in this case, psychics. Blessed with the potential to become a great psychic himself, he finds himself at Whispering Rock, a psychic summer camp that trains young hopefuls in the art of mastering their abilities, with the possibility that someday they can become Psychonauts, the first line of defense in the war of the mind.

While the game itself didn't break any new mechanical ground as the Marios and Dooms of the world have, it carried a cast, story and, perhaps most important of all, a humor that games rarely approach. From laugh out loud one-liners to the absurdity of a paranoid-schizophrenic's dream world, players found themselves not just collecting items, but learning a lot—in a fun, breezy way—about the way that people deal (or don't) with real life problems. It was a huge departure from the usually juvenile antics typical platformers used as their main source entertainment, and, surprisingly, the game failed to make much of a commercial impact. It still lives on, however, available for download on Valve's Steam distribution system, so it's not too late to enjoy it.

Why It Worked Psychonauts is a landmark in writing for games because of the incredible tightrope it walks between smart and funny writing. Tim Schafer had already warmed up his funny bone with past outings such as the Monkey Island series, and of course, Grim Fandango, but he took that sensibility and transferred it to the much more dynamic, hub-based world of contemporary platform games. The wit, often leagues ahead of typical of game dialog is in abundance, but running underneath all the snappy comebacks is a genuine interest in psychology. The game, in a way games almost never do, asks the question "why do people get broken by their problems?" and then makes those personality theories and metaphors into real things that players can interact with. "Mental baggage" appears in the form of real luggage that tries to run away from Raz. Censors that try to stamp out inappropriate thought are now bureaucrats of increasing size, attacking anything deemed "unacceptable" including Raz during his psychic incursions.

For many gamers, Psychonauts was the first time that a basic lesson in human psychology and problem solving behavior was also fun, in 3D, and full of memorable dialog. And none of it would have worked had Tim Schafer not realized that the story he was telling had elements of the visual, aural and interactive that all needed to work together to engage the player. The fact that he also included poker playing dogs in a velvet painting that bemoaned their fate was just a happy bonus.